


pumpkin spice supersoldier

by bazzystar



Series: The Brooklyn Avengers [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics), Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Ficlets, Fluff, Gen, Pumpkin Spice Latte, Pumpkin Spice Oil Change, Pumpkin spice everything, fall - Freeform, garden au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-19 13:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8210812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bazzystar/pseuds/bazzystar
Summary: A Very Brooklyn Avengers Halloween





	1. It Begins

Steve wakes up in a bed filled with tiny gourds.

The tiny gourds are a variety of shapes and sizes, but they are all arranged in a larger shape that is almost, if he squints, an approximation of a sleeping Bucky. The baseball cap resting on the biggest, roundest gourd cements this impression.

Steve looks at the ceiling and sighs.

It is the first day of October.


	2. i mean, starbucks is charging like six dollars a cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE PSL. Imagine that everyone in this scene is wearing Uggs except for Steve. Even Lucky. (Bucky is wearing them offscreen at home.)

“Not you, too,” Steve says, dismayed. Nat lifts an eyebrow and takes another sip.

“So you don’t want a scone, then.”

Ece takes her own, which is frosted in orange-and-white stripes, and dunks it into Nat’s coffee. Nat’s latte, Steve corrects himself. Her _pumpkin spice_ latte.

“I don’t-” He sighs. “Look, I don’t have an _objection_ to the pumpkin… thing. I just don’t know why it has to be in everything all month and then never again! Why can’t we just occasionally have a pumpkin thing whenever the mood strikes?” He’s eating an everything bagel with cream cheese and feeling distinctly un-festive. Stripey frosting does not seem like an appropriate way to celebrate the changing of the seasons.

“Are you always this much of a killjoy?”

“You’ve met him, right?” asks Clint, spraying a mouthful of orange crumbs. “Rogers. The mood strikes in October. For _all_ of October. Then in November it’s salted caramel, and in December it’s peppermint mocha. Have you really just been drinking black coffee the entire time you’ve been awake? Do you not even _care_ that you live in the future?”

Lucky pads over and puts his head in Nat’s lap. “No, baby,” she says, pushing him lightly. “Not for puppies.”

Clint gives him half a scone. Nat rolls her eyes.

“See? Even the dog knows. Give in to the spice.” Clint waggles his eyebrows.

“Clint, yesterday I watched you drink directly from a gas-station coffee dispenser,” Steve says.

“And today I’m drinking the nectar of the gods. I contain multitudes.”

Steve sighs and holds out his cup. Nat beams.

“Okay, so this one is actually from the coffee shop, and then this one is the one I made.”

“She thinks she’s saving money,” Ece comments drily. Nat elbows her gently, somehow managing to neatly pour coffee at the same time. “Like you’re not thrilled about it.”

Ece just picks up another scone and watches Steve as he brings the cup to his lips.

It’s great, actually - toasty-sweet and spicy, and it makes him think about campfires and Bucky and sleeping out on the roof, wrapped in blankets.

He loves it.

_Ah, shit._

“It’s good,” he says guardedly. He managed to drink about half the cup in one gulp, but Nat very kindly does not say anything.

Ece slides the other mug across the little table. “Where’s James?” She’s picked up Nat’s habit of calling him that, but it still takes Steve a moment to register when it comes out of her mouth.

He picks up the other cup, still holding the first. “He’s cooking,” he says, taking a sip of the second latte. “This is… wait, is this the same one again?”

Nat crows. “I _told_ you I did it.” She punches Clint in the shoulder.

“Cooking?”

“Yeah, you haven’t been to one of the parties yet, have you,” Clint says, taking a bite out of a croissant. He puts that one down and picks up another one. “Like myself, Barnes is a man of many talents. Espionage, murder, a really excellent cherries jubilee. He’s the total package.” He takes a bite out of the new croissant and sets that one down. Nat slaps his hand away before he can grab another and he pouts at her.

Ece looks at Steve. He shrugs. “He does do a really good cherries jubilee. He’s actually really good at most things, cooking-wise. Though there _was_ something weird one time that might have been a stomach, I think? I tried not to ask questions. Still better than most of the food in the forties, though.”

He drinks the rest of the first cup. “Anyway, he’s got about three different things in the oven today and what looked like an entire goose splayed out on the counter when I woke up, so-”

Nat nods. “I bet it’s a thousand degrees in that kitchen.”

“I bet it smells amazing,” Clint says, his eyes glazing over.

“He’s working his way through some kind of harvest-themed cookbook,” Steve continues. “We’re going apple-picking at some point so he can do, uh, pork chops with some kind of… ch…”

“Chutney,” Ece offers.

“Chutney! Yes. And cider, and pie, and…” Steve waves the hand holding the second latte, notices he still has the second latte, and drinks that too. “Maybe that’s all. I don’t know. He said we needed _barrels_.”

“Well, I definitely want to do that,” muses Ece. Nat pats her hand and says, “James wouldn’t let us miss it.”

“ _I_ wouldn’t let you miss it,” says Clint as he snatches the final untouched croissant.

“Are you doing that just for my benefit?”

Clint scoffs through the mouthful of bread. “Like it’s gonna stop you from eating them.”

Nat glares at him, but she’s literally just bitten into his first discarded croissant, so the effect is rather muted.

“He’s testing out recipes for the party,” Steve says. “The Halloween party. So… don’t make plans, I guess.”

“Is this our official invitation?” Clint clasps his hands and bats his eyelashes.

“Oh, no,” Steve says brightly. “Those are in the mail, and you _will_ have to RSVP.”  
“Aw, Rogers-”

“Are costumes required?”

He can’t tell if Ece’s voice is excited or apprehensive, so he tries to aim somewhere in the middle with the response.

“Well, _required_ is a strong word, but… he does have a bunch of novelty hats that he’ll put on you if you’re not dressed up.”

Nat chokes on her croissant, hacking dramatically while Ece pats her shoulder. “Novelty hats,” she says at last. “How the mighty have fallen.”

Steve holds his empty coffee mug out. “Says the Black Widow, who’s now spending her time making off-brand replicas of Starbucks drinks.”

“Touché,” she says, and pours him another cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look, i love the PSL although i will say that i think starbucks' is not the best one. i also love uggs - i have a knockoff pair and they are warm as shit and when you live in a walkup and you have to take the trash out you will thank your little toasty-feet lucky stars for that bigass pair of bear paws you're wearing. ANYWAY. stay tuned. i'm thinking they need to go decoration-shopping soon. xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> I love Halloween and I love these idiots and the other fic I'm writing is getting very sad so! I decided I would do lil teeny fall shenanigans throughout this month. If you've ever wanted to see some dudes havin a good time apple-picking/leaf-raking/pumpkin-carving etc. now is your chance. Comments/suggestions/feedback are welcome and encouraged!


End file.
